location/time: medusa’s bedroom, morning (eyebrow wiggle)
status: closed to @medusxa
They would consider themself a creature of habit, in a life spent largely on the move with little regularity, they’ve surrounded themself in familiar routines ever since joining the Collective. And so it’s rare for them to stray from the norm of not spending the night in their room, but they’ve found themself every now and then breaking that habit, as much as they enjoy the cozy familiarity of the mess of the room they had. Medusa’s room, however, certainly has its perks- the obvious one being the bedmate, the not so obvious one being that the sunlight always filtered through her windows just right in the morning.
There weren’t all that many sleeping positions someone like them could take, especially with a second person laying in bed, which often meant their wings were left to hang off the side, and extend out into the middle of her floor. It’s due to that positioning though, that leads them to wake up with the soothing sensation of sunlight warming their wings where they rest against the floor. They can practically feel their blood warming through the length of the additional appendages, as the sun beams down on them, and they think they might have finally understood just why buzzards seemed to enjoy sunning their own wings so often in the summer.
With a low hum of content, they outstretch each wing until they both crack at the joint, and they just about lull themself back to sleep again in the pleasant comfort of the morning, until they noticed the body next to them starting to stir.
“Mmph, we can sleep in longer,” they groan quietly, as drape an arm over her side. “App boy can wait a little longer before we fake kill him and move all his shit.”
.
